


A Tale of Two Kings

by Lady_Arrowwood, RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Series: Deus ex Machina [2]
Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Fluffy Ending, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/Lady_Arrowwood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two kings and a knight all find some closure, after the invasion of Haltmann Works.</p><p>*Spoilers from Famitsu scans*</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Two Kings

**Author's Note:**

> This has the most minor of spoilers, as in the fact that there is a Clone Dedede and Mecha Knight. That's about it. No actual plot details are present. Also, there's vaguely described Meta Knight torture, hence the rating.
> 
> Also, I'm hugely indebted to askthedrumdasher on Tumblr, for all the posts featuring King Dedede and his clone, as a source of inspiration.

_The world is a place of machinery, cold and gleaming. It isn’t his world. His world is green and blue with flowers and water and air. Susie says that is his world, his to rule, but he must be patient. He must wait to eliminate those who stand in his way. For now, he must remain in the cold, impersonal world of metal, until he is powerful enough to reclaim his kingdom._

_He doesn’t always trust Susie. She’s the only person who tells him anything, but he has no past. He has some speech, some feelings, and sometimes, vague urges and thoughts prick inside his mind and heart. One day, Susie summons him and gives him instructions he doesn’t understand. But he obeys. He’s supposed to obey._

* * *

 

 

The world outside of Haltmann Works was as colorful as promised. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and bright, delicate flowers sprung up from the ground. As it was, his vocabulary was disappointingly limited, and he had only a handful of words to describe the things around them. Most of his words were about machines and metal, ill-suited for his organic surrounding. Unfortunately, his knowledge was limited, too.

 

He knew that some things were poisonous if eaten, but he didn’t know which ones. There were some he recognized, of course. He remembered apples and fish; he’d eaten them at Haltmann Works. But that was where his knowledge ended. Were the small, black berries safe? Was the star-shaped green thing alright to eat? Was it worth the risk?

 

Usually, it wasn’t, so he wandered through the dense forest, with an ever-present gnawing in his stomach. It hurt, and his head hurt. He was probably going to die. He was already injured, and a particularly nasty gash on his arm kept ripping open.

 

* * *

 

_He enters the room and approaches the creature from behind. It’s strapped down to a table, its back and cape flecked with dried blood. “Meta Knight?” he says inquisitively and concerned, just like Susie asked._

_The creature shivers. “My Lord?”_

_It struggles, and his stomach churns. He approaches the creature from the front, so it can see him. Its eyes are a shining white-silver that glows like—like some nameless thing that he can’t recall. He catches Susie’s gaze. Be sympathetic; she’d said. They’d rehearsed this._

_“I think I remember you,” he murmurs._

_He doesn’t._

_The creature’s eyes narrow, in a gesture that’s somehow achingly familiar. He reaches out and strokes the creature’s soft skin; that wasn’t part of Susie’s orders, but it feels like the right thing to do. “Dedede,” the creature says. “You must—do you remember Bandanna Dee? Kirby? Dreamland?”_

_“Get away from it!” Susie snaps._

_This is part of the plan, too. He’s supposed to look conflicted, like when they practiced. But at some point, he stopped acting. He doesn’t want them to hurt the creature, even if it’s their enemy. “But he’s—”_

 

_Helpless. Familiar. Hurt. So kind and valiant and noble._

_“Away from it. Now, Dedede.”_

_He steps back. Susie approaches the creature and whispers to it, so low that he can’t make out the words. The creature meets his gaze. There’s something so heartbreaking and pained about it, something that he shouldn’t know exists. The creature lowers its gaze and sighs. Its cape shimmers and splits into wings, which are immediately seized by the waiting metal claws._

_“Stupid thing. It’s not even your Dedede,” Susie says. “He’s a copy.”_

* * *

 

 

One night, it stormed. He trudged into a shallow cave, cramming himself into the small space. Wind tore through the forest, lightning illuminated the forest unnatural colors, thunder boomed and seemed to settle into his bones. The rain seemed to blow sideways, right into the cave’s entrance. He wilted against the cave walls, trying to make himself small. The storm continued.

 

He only knew he’d fallen asleep because he woke up. He carried his aching body away from the rocks and looked around. The storm had ceased and left everything wet and smelling of something strange and deep, something organic. And there were apples.

 

Apples _everywhere_.

 

He gawked at the bright red fruit. Perhaps, the storm had jostled the fruit free from the trees. Apples _did_ grow on trees, didn’t they? Famished, he stumbled forward, devouring them two or three at a time. They were so sweet and crisp and wet, and he hadn’t eaten anything more than a loaf of bread—two days ago and swiped from an unsuspecting orange and cream creature. It might’ve been wise to save some of the apples for later, but he realized that in hindsight, after he’d eaten them all.

 

He smoothed his damp feathers. Maybe things were finally looking up. He kept walking, unsure of a destination, but searching for some place that was neither Haltmann Works nor Dreamland.

 

* * *

_A copy?_

_“You tricked me,” the creature whispers._

_“I needed you to release your wings somehow. I knew you wouldn’t let me punish your beloved king for your defiance. Such a loyal thing you are.”_

_Tricked it?_

_Wind whips through the room, and he ducks beneath a desk to avoid the sharp wind that’s tearing the room apart. It stops abruptly, and someone screams. It takes him a few minutes to realize it’s the creature. The metal claws hold its wings wide-open, and it must hurt. The creature thrashes and fights, trying to find purchase, while it dangles in midair. Susie presses a button, and the creature slams back into the table. “That’ll be all, Dedede. Good job,” Susie says._

 

* * *

 

Indeed, after a week, it became clear his fortunes _had_ improved. There was suddenly food and fresh water everywhere. In the course of a week, he stumbled upon large piles of fruit, seemingly abandoned in the middle of the forest. He found fresh bread, carefully wrapped and still warm, resting behind boulders and at the bases of trees. One night, he even stumbled upon a campsite, complete with blankets, a fire, and fish cooking. The fish was about to burn, and after a moment’s thought, he pulled them off the fire and waited.

 

And waited.

 

The sun sank, night came, and still no one returned to the campsite. He ate the fish, and they were quite good. He curled up in the blanket and pretended to sleep. It was clear that he had a benefactor somewhere, and said benefactor was helping him. It was wondrous and terrifying. Surely, no one would willingly help him, would they? Perhaps, it was someone from Haltmann Works, and it was part of an experiment. Perhaps, it was a benign forest spirit. Did those even exist?

 

He couldn’t stay awake and dreamed sweet dreams of small, leaf-like creatures that watched over him from the tree-tops. He woke to a basket of fresh fruit and something hard, round, and sweet, which filled him with remarkable energy when he ate it (Although, maybe he wasn’t supposed to eat the stick that was attached to the round, sweet thing. It didn’t taste good, and he spit it out). He cleared his throat, having not spoken for days. “Thank you!” he shouted, hoping the possible forest spirit heard him. “I really appreciate this!”

 

No forest spirit appeared.

 

* * *

 

 

_It occurs to him later that he tricked the creature into showing its wings, so they could hurt it more. So they could tear it apart and modify it. “We’re fixing it,” Susie insists. “It’s broken.”_

_But it looks far more broken laying on that table, with its wings pinned down with clips, weights, and bits of shining metal, than it did before he tricked it._ Poor thing _, he thinks._

_He steps inside and shuffles quietly to the creature’s side. The creature stirs, its eyes open halfway. “Dedede?” it mumbles._

_No, not the Dedede he wants. He’s not even really Dedede; he’s just a disposable copy, easily replaced. He’s nothing. “Yeah,” he lies._

_“I’m sorry I failed you,” the creature says, with heart-wrenching conviction. “I’m sorry I failed everyone.”_

_His stomach twists. This isn’t right. He’s receiving heartfelt confessions that aren’t meant for him. The creature is half-asleep and doesn’t realize what it’s doing. “Stop—”_

_“Do you remember our childhood?” the creature asks. “The way we used to chase one another through the castle corridors? It wasn’t really a castle yet, just some ruins your parents decided to build a town around. You made it a castle, when you declared yourself the king of Dreamland.”_

_He doesn’t know what to do. These words aren’t for him. This softness isn’t for him. “Stop,” he says, backing away. “I’m not Dedede! I lied to you! You can’t—”_

_“I knew you weren’t my Dedede. I just hoped I could pretend for a little bit. You have his voice and face. I wonder if you have—”_

_The lights flick on, and he runs, before the creature can finish its thought._

 

* * *

 

 

The river was nice. He liked dipping his feet into the water; it was cold, but a different sort of cold from the harsh metal he was familiar with. Peaceful. The bushes rustled, catching his attention. “Hello?” he asked.

 

Had his mysterious benefactor finally decided to reveal himself? He sat upright and brushed himself off, trying to look presentable. “I’ve been wanting to meet you!” he said, trying to coax the stranger out.

 

The creature that emerged wasn’t a forest spirit. It was a pack of hulking, furry creatures with sharp teeth and gold eyes. There was a lump in his throat. He’d lost his hammer, after his battle with the warrior-child, and even if he’d had it, he wasn’t sure if it’d helped. He’d lost so much power after that battle, and those creatures didn’t look at all like forest spirits and certainly not benign ones. “Hello,” he said, puffing out his chest and trying to appear imposing.

 

One creature stepped forward and grinned. “Any last words?” it asked, crouching low to the ground.

 

“You don’t want to do this,” he said quickly. “I’m not alone. I can defend myself.”

 

The creature laughed. “I very much doubt that,” it replied.

 

It lunged. He scrambled backwards, tripping over the riverbank. There was no way he’d outrun them. Could they swim? Maybe if he got into the river— _he didn’t know how to swim either_. A metallic clang reverberated in his ears, followed by a flash of sun-like gold and purple. The creature howled and backed away, angry and snapping.

 

He trembled and swallowed thickly. “Stay behind me,” the knight said. “I’ll take care of this.”

 

He was too stunned to argue. Mecha Knight wore armor, but he didn’t have his modifications anymore. The red and orange machinery was replaced with soft-looking blue fur and flesh. “I am Sir Meta Knight, the vassal to King Dedede of Dreamland. I order you to leave our kingdom and return to yours. If you do so, you will remain unharmed. If you—”

 

“The little one has big words, doesn’t he?” another of the creatures asked, barking in laughter.

 

“If you choose to stay, we will fight, and I will win. So why don’t you go home and come back when you can put up a fight?”

 

* * *

 

 

_Meta Knight’s memories of Haltmann Works involve being strapped and weighted down to operating tables with clamps and magnets. They involve aching and spasming muscles—because his wings aren’t meant to be stretched out that far or for that long and he can’t relieve the strain and is it possible to tear them from his back like that and it hurts, hurts so much. There are tiny holes being drilled and samples being taken, and consistent murmurs of what is that thing, isn’t it fascinating? They involve ineffectual attempts of sedation, which Meta Knight metabolizes too quickly, resulting in blissful blankness that turns to agony, screaming, and thrashing until he’s too exhausted to fight anymore._

_He remembers hanging limply, while they make marks on his wings. He remembers them tearing him apart and reassembling him with bits of metal. Then, he wakes—or does he? Had he even fallen asleep?—and Susie is there, telling him what he is._

 

* * *

 

 

The first creature lunged forward, its teeth meeting the knight’s blade. The sword crackled with lightning and sent the furry creature flying backwards. The other two leaped forward, and the knight vanished, reappearing in time to strike both with a burst of light and fire. It was obvious why Haltmann Works had been so interested in the creature. He was so unnaturally fast, his blade sparking light and fire with every strike.

 

The battle was over quickly, the creatures retreating. The knight shot into the sky and remained there, his sword held ready. Then, elegantly, he descended. His wings twisted into his cape as he landed. “Now, then,” the knight said, turning towards him.

 

He took a step back, his eyes darting to the creature’s sword. “You—you’ve been watching!” He exclaimed.

 

“I have. I thought I might survey the kingdom’s borders, in search of any remaining enemies.”

 

His heart quickened in his chest. Again, his eyes locked on the creature’s sword. Was that it? The knight had wanted to lure him into a false sense of security? To get his hopes up before killing him? The knight was cold and cruel, ferocious and angry. There was no hope of mercy from Mecha Knight, the creature they’d captured, broken apart, and rebuilt.

 

But he didn’t want to die.

 

“N—no! It’s not fair!” He shouted. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to hurt anyone! I didn’t know! I just did what they told me, and I—I don’t have anything! I don’t have a past or—or a name or—I’m just a copy of another person, and please, don’t hurt me! I’ll—”

 

“Not having a past bothers you?”

 

“Y-yes! Everyone has one, except for me! I was just—”

 

“You’ll share our past, of course,” the creature said.

 

His words died in his throat. “Y-your past?”

 

“Yes, mine and Dedede’s.”

 

“You’re not going to kill me?”

 

Meta Knight’s wings twitched. “Sometimes, people do bad things with good intentions. I know that better than most. But you—you have my liege’s voice and face. It’s not so strange to think that you might also have his heart, and if you do, you’re quite fortunate.”

 

“But you—we—”

 

“I know of your conception. You’re barely a month old—still just a child. Why would I blame you for anything? Children only do as they’ve been taught, Dedede.”

 

“You know I’m not really Dedede,” he said carefully. “Not the important one.”

 

“You are Dedede, unless you have another preferred term of address?”

 

“No,” he admitted, still trying to figure out what Meta Knight was playing at.

 

Meta Knight sheathed his sword and offered his paw. “I’ll take you to Dreamland,” he said. “I know my king well. I’m certain he’d love to meet you.”

 

He hesitated. What if it was a trap? Why would it be a trap? If Meta Knight had been following him and helping him all along, it wouldn’t make sense to kill him after all that effort, would it? The knight could’ve just let the fur-creatures have him.

 

Carefully, he stepped forward. “And you’re not going to hurt me? You promise?”

 

The knight nodded. “You have nothing to fear in the kingdom of Dreamland.”

 

Dedede, for he _was_ Dedede, took a deep breath and shook the knight’s paw. “I believe you.”

* * *

 

 

 _He’s their Mecha Knight. He’s a weapon. His only purpose is to serve Haltmann Works and to fight for them. He has no past. He's told that his life begins with Haltmann, but a soft, foreign voice whispers in his mind, insisting that isn’t the case. He isn’t a weapon. He’s a knight,_ her _knight, her champion, her beloved wielder. She ignites his anger. He had a past, and they took it. They stole his memories, and all that’s left is confusion and anger and_ her _._

_The look on Kirby’s face still haunts him. Meta Knight remembers how the confusion faded to surprise and then determination. He remembers Kirby taking a fighting stance._

_“How dare you hurt my friend?” Kirby yells at Susie._

_Something mechanical clicks in Meta Knight’s mind. He has to kill that—that thing. That hero, that warrior-child. And Meta Knight tries. He tries so hard._

_“I’ll save you, Meta Knight! I’ll set you free!”_

_And Kirby wins, of course. He always does and leaves Meta Knight with cracked armor, his true face exposed for everyone to see._

* * *

 

 

Bandanna Dee, his bandanna woven with delicate flowers, greeted them at the castle gates. The waddle dee’s eyes darted from Meta Knight, to the clone Dedede, to the crew, and back. “Welcome!” Bandanna Dee exclaimed.

 

An army of waddle dees waddled forth, carrying disconcerting amounts of flowers. “What’s going on?” Meta Knight asked, alarmed when one of the waddle dees tried to place a flower crown on his head.

 

“A banquet, celebrating your safe return, of course!” Bandanna Dee replied, with a laugh. “Our Great King ordered it, as soon as we saw the _Halberd_ in the skies. Of course, we’re still rebuilding the castle, but…”

 

Bandanna Dee waved vaguely to the castle ruins and makeshift tents dotting the ground. “On the bright side, the kitchens remained in one piece,” the waddle dee added, “Which is great, since we have the Great King _and_ Kirby and—er, the other Great King?”

 

Bandanna Dee eyed the clone of Dedede, who was happily accepting the flower garlands and crowns being heaped upon him. “Something like that,” Meta Knight replied, lowering his voice. “You know of the mirror doubles, yes?”

 

Bandanna Dee nodded and edged closer to the knight. The Other Dedede didn’t notice. Meta Knight’s crew seemed amused by their newly flower-laden king-lookalike, for they, too, began trying to wrap a massive garland of pastel flowers around his neck.

 

“He’s something like that, but he was made from our king’s cells.”

 

“From his cells…” Bandanna Dee muttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

 

“It’s more like he’s Dedede and also Dedede’s son,” Meta Knight offered.

 

“Okay,” Bandanna Dee said. “I’ll tell him, so he has some warning.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Bandanna Dee offered a jaunty salute and scurried away. Meta Knight rejoined his crew, some of whom had been persuaded to don flower crowns themselves. Suddenly, a high-pitched squeak split the air. Meta Knight braced himself for the pink mass that leaped upon him. “Meta Knight!”

 

Kirby grasped the knight's paws and bounced up and down on the grass, every movement jarring petals from Kirby's flower crown. “You’re back, Meta Knight!”

 

Meta Knight wasn’t one for affection. He only grudgingly accepted Dedede’s affectionate pats and strokes because Dedede was his superior and—though he’d never admit it aloud—Meta Knight’s longtime friend. Still, he didn’t push Kirby away. He stood still and let the child bounce, until he finally stepped back, smiling. “And the other Dedede!” he exclaimed.

 

The Other Dedede froze, his purple eyes wide. Meta Knight hummed. “Yes, he’s our friend now,” Meta Knight said.

 

Gentle and loving Kirby would accept anyone as a friend, regardless of any past transgressions. It’d been that way with Taranza and Magolor, and it seemed to be the case with the Other Dedede. Kirby shouted happily and leaped at the clone, laughing and rambling about flowers.

* * *

 

 

_“Meta Knight, don’t you remember me? It’s Kirby.”_

_Of course, he remembers. And when her sacred fire joyfully embraces him, he remembers her name, too: Galaxia._

 

* * *

 

 

Meta Knight stood aside. He watched Sword and Blade carry the flower-clad Sailor Dee on their shoulders. He watched Axe, Mace, and Trident and Kirby and Dedede. Meta Knight would never join in their festivities, but he’d watch them.

 

“Meta Knight!” King Dedede boomed.

 

Meta Knight inclined his head, as the king—flower garlands draping across his shoulders and trailing down his coat—and Bandanna Dee approached. Dedede scooped Meta Knight off the ground and hugged him tightly. Meta Knight scowled and flapped his wings, insisting he be released. “I’m glad you're back,” Dedede whispered. “I missed you.”

 

“I might’ve missed you, too,” Meta Knight replied.

 

"I see you haven't lost your bad attitude."

 

"I try not to disappoint you, my Lord."

 

Dedede patted the place where Meta Knight's wings met his back. "You'd never disappoint me, my favorite knightmare," Dedede whispered.

 

"I'm your  _only_ knightmare. It's not a compliment, if I win by default."

 

The king laughed heartily and gently placed Meta Knight back on the ground. “Now, where is my—” the king turned around and grinned slyly. “Son!”

 

The clone shuffled forward, with Kirby insistently prodding him from behind. “Son?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Son,” Dedede replied.

 

The king spread his arms wide and embraced the Other Dedede. “My son,” he insisted. “This is wonderful! And now you’ll live here with me in the castle! And I’ll teach you everything! And we’ll sit for family portraits and eat and play together all day long!”

 

The king draped an arm over the bewildered Dedede’s shoulders. The clone looked to Meta Knight for support and received a shrug in return. Seeming reassured, the clone smiled shyly at his new father. “Dinner is ready!” the king shouted.

 

Everyone followed, racing to beat one another, although Meta Knight strongly suspected there wouldn’t be much food left, if two Dededes _and_ Kirby arrived at it first. “We’re going to be serving two of them now,” Bandanna Dee said wryly, hanging back with Meta Knight. “Are you up for that, Sir Knight?”

 

“Yes,” Meta Knight replied. “Dreamland is at peace again. I’m happy to do anything to keep that peace.”

 

That was the Dreamland he’d learned to fight for, the one where everyone overcame hardships, the one where evenings could be spent playing with flowers in the castle courtyard, the one ruled by their childish, horrible, petty—kind, shrewd, affectionate—monarch and protected by their naïve warrior-child. And for the first time since Haltmann Works’ invasion, Meta Knight felt peace.

 


End file.
